Dear Darlin
by Redd-forbiddenloversinthenight
Summary: 6 months after the Wizarding War and Fred Weasley is as broken as he was when the war was happening. The girl he loves doesn't seem to love him... or at least he thinks so. Rated M - in progress - Fremione - please review xx
1. Prologue

_1996 Christmas Eve_

The sound of Molly Weasley's favourite singer on the television echoed throughout most of the house on Christmas Eve. Hermione was entering from the kitchen after washing up the dishes and leaned against the doorframe with an amused smile. Arthur held Molly's hand and Molly sung along to the tune. Tonks and Remus sat in the corner with big grins to each other though seeming to be talking about something rather serious.

Hermione didn't want to interrupt the moment so she turned again, ready to turn in for the night, when a figure came into contact with her. She saw that it was Ginny about to head upstairs. "Oh sorry Ginny, didn't see you there."

"It's fine." Ginny said with a shrug. "I'm heading up to bed, Harry and Ron are in the kitchen if you want them, I was just talking with them." She gave a small smile.

Hermione shook her head, "No it's okay. I'll be coming up in a minute anyway, just need to get my bag."

"Okay then." Ginny nodded and disappeared upstairs.

Hermione said good night to the boys as she collected her bag from the chair which Ron was sitting on. "I'll see you in the morning." She said softly, then following where Ginny just went.

* * *

On the first landing the bathroom door swung open and Fred emerged from inside.

"Hello." He said to Hermione with a mischievous smirk on his face. "You heading to bed?"

"Yes," Hermione placed her hands on her hips, which Fred recognized from his own mother and sister. He figured it must been a woman thing. "What were you doing in there?" she said suspiciously.

Fred arched his brow at the brunette. "Going to the toilet, what do you think I was doing in the bathroom Granger?" he leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his ankles as well. Fred was so much taller than Hermione, she had to tilt her head up to look at him.

"You have the troublesome look on your face, so I don't know what you could have been doing in there, Weasley." Hermione smirked.

Fred shrugged. "Oh I dunno," Hermione noticed his wand poking out from his arm and pointed to the roof. "Maybe planning this."

She looked up to see some mistletoe growing from the top of the door. Hermione rolled her eyes but Fred noticed the red blush welling up in her cheeks. "You know if you wanted a kiss you could have just said so." She said, rather amused.

"Yeah but this is much more romantic." Fred told her, and with that, he leaned in and their lips met.

His mouth on hers was one of the most ecstatic things that Hermione loved. They'd kept their relationship – if that was what they called it – to themselves. In times of war and trouble they couldn't risk this being something more. Something they needed to live.

Hermione was the one to pull back and she opened her eyes, her pupils were dilated and her heart pounded fast against her chest. She wanted more.

"Merry Christmas, Granger." Fred murmured into her ear then placed a quick kiss to her cheek and he descended the stairs.


	2. Happiness

_Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light._

The quote rang through Fred's head, over and over and over. He wished that it was true. He was fifteen when he first heard it from Dumbledore, during his fifth year at Hogwarts. At that time Fred didn't really get what it meant, but now he did. All he felt was darkness these days. The war had messed with everyone. Only hours after Percy thought sense and came back he was killed. The explosion got him good and there was nothing to do but be dragged away by Hermione and Harry, sobbing atrociously from the hurt erupting all over.

The grieving lasted for months and somehow snuck back into his system every now and then. It wasn't only Percy. He'd lost so many others as well. Remus and Tonks were gone; the little elf Dobby who always served himself and George in the kitchens; Colin Creevey who sometimes dueled with Fred during DA meetings. To occupy himself Fred would help with the rebuilding of Hogwarts but every time it just pained him to do anything.

And now it was happening again. Fred's heart yearned for it not to be like this. He physically felt his body not being able to respond. Not when after all he'd been through… he got nothing out of it for himself. Sure, the war was over, but the scars inflicted upon every individual would remain. And that hurt more than any injury.

He was lounging on the tattered, old couch in the Burrow, playing with Ron's deluminator because it was just sitting there in front of him. Fred's sister sat opposite him on one of the other seats, twiddling her fingers nervously, then she spoke up.

"You know you could at least act like you're happy for them." Ginny told him in her broken and strained voice that she spoke in more often than not these days.

The other ginger looked up from the deluminator and flicked his eyes over to her. Under Ginny's eyes were dark bags from her lack of sleep. She had a crease above the bridge of her nose as she constantly puckered her eyebrows in concern or anger or hurt. Fred also noticed she'd lost a couple of pounds. Harry had cut everyone off and wouldn't so much as send a letter to let them know how he was. This made Fred's mother thwarted. Molly Weasley had forever took care of Harry since he was twelve and now couldn't even take care of herself, though she knew Harry Potter's disappearance was not at all mature or responsible.

Fred sat up properly and put the deluminator down onto the table. "I am happy for them. It's nice that they're together." He got to his feet, heading for the door.

"And you're happy that she's happy," Ginny said as she turned her head to look at him. "Right?"

"Yeah. That's what I said, Ginny." Fred tugged his coat on and put his hands into his pockets. "I'm fine, really. No need to worry little sis." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "Have a rest, you've been up all day."

Weasley Wizard Wheeze's had finally reopened 2 weeks after the war. While the commotion raved on at Hogwarts, Diagon Alley had its own riot. The entire street was destroyed and whoever was left there, died. Fred and George had then lost more people in their habitat and for the first few days it was painful just to walk about the place. The work was hard and laborious but soon enough the place was in order and customers were flying through the door.

A few times Ginny and Hermione had come around and did a few charities to help with business, even their own mum came and cooked up a big dinner for the witches and wizards who had lost. Diagon Alley was slowly coming back to life. A different life from before but a new life nonetheless.

Fred climbed upstairs into the flat which he and his brother shared. "Oi George." Fred threw an apple at his brother's sleeping form on the couch.

The apple landed on George's stomach and stirred him, he opened his eyes. "Git."

Fred laughed and flicked his wand toward the kitchen to prepare two coffees, George sat up and glared at his brother. "What?" Fred laughed.

George rolled his eyes then took a bite out of the apple. "How were they all? Sorry I couldn't come by the way, I didn't want to be sick all over Mum's cooking."

"Ginny is… well, Harry has fucked her up. I might go and pay him a little visit soon." Fred told him. George had been sick for the past three days with the flu and none of their concoctions had been working to fix him up. "The others were alright but Ron hadn't bothered to show up."

"Man you're still pissed at him?" George asked and got up from the couch with a blanket wrapped around himself. Fred's eyes narrowed at his brother.

"I'm not pissed at him." Fred insisted.

George scoffed and returned to the couch with his coffee. "Sure you aren't. I see the glares you give him and how rude you speak to him. And all for what? Some fling that happened more than two years ago?"

"It wasn't a fling." Fred mumbled. It couldn't have been, he knew it. And he knew that deep down Hermione felt the same that he did towards her. At least, he wished.

"Whatever man, I just don't want you chasing after a girl who is already taken."

Fred didn't say anything in reply. He walked into the bathroom and stripped down to take a shower. The warm water splattered onto his chest and he rinsed his hair through. He was still thinking about Hermione. The entire situation was bullshit. Why did Ron have to kiss her during the war? Why? Selfish git. If what George said was true – Fred didn't want to admit his brother was right – then Fred would have to put in a bit more effort. If he couldn't have Hermione in his own arms then the least he could do was see that she's happy.

If only _he _were happy.

**A/N: short chapter but I'm going to try and update regularly, like once every two weeks or so. Please review!**


End file.
